


Level the Playing Field

by xoxoMouse



Series: PJO Personal Canon (General) [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Cabin 11 - Freeform, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Canon Divergent, Gen, Hermes Cabin - Freeform, I know it, Listen I know Luke is a problematic fave, PJOverse, but you're telling me he would let his siblings sleep on the floor???, canonverse, chb, hermes kids hijinks, miss me with that shit, no betas we die like men, pre-PJO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxoMouse/pseuds/xoxoMouse
Summary: Luke Castellan is 15, has just become head counselor for Cabin 11, and, well, he's going to make that everyone else's problem.
Series: PJO Personal Canon (General) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979693
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Level the Playing Field

Luke Castellan had been head counselor of Cabin 11 for less than twenty-four hours when he decided things needed to change. No, not needed to change, were _going_ to change. He'd spent too long waiting for someone to help him. Now he knew for certain if he wanted anything done, he was going to have to do it himself. And if you knew anything about the Son of Hermes, you knew once he set his mind to something he was a force to be reckoned with. 

Travis and Connor Stoll peered down at him through the darkness of the cabin. The cabin was filled with the soft noises of sleep: blankets rustling, bedsprings creaking, even a few light snores already slipping into the background of the night. Luke was able to make out the vague shapes of their unruly hair by the moonlight streaming in. 

“Why are you on the floor?” Connor asked.

Travis whispered too, lisping his ‘S’s through the large gap between his two front teeth. “Yeah, you’re head counselor now. The head counselor always gets a bunk.”

“No,” Luke told them in a hushed but firm voice. “Not anymore. I’m following the chart. That’s how it works. That’s what keeps it fair.”

There was a pause as they scrutinized his words. They were young and they were rowdy, but they were good kids. They were smart. He wasn't going to let them grow up thinking otherwise just because Cabin 11 might not have the best reputation. They deserved better than that. They all did.  


“That’s stupid.”

Connor punched his brother on the shoulder for saying it out loud. 

Luke allowed himself a small chuckle. “You two will get it when you’re head counselors one day,” he told them. “You guys are my responsibility now. All of you. I’m going to fix things around here. That starts now. It starts with making sure you're all taken care of.”

He could tell by his tone that Travis had been rolling his eyes. “Okay, Luke. Whatever you say.”

Even Connor gave in on this one. “Yeah, good luck.”

But Luke wasn’t deterred from the task. He folded his arms behind his head and crossed his legs one over the other in his sleeping bag on the hard, creaking boards that made up the floor of Cabin 11. He was nothing if not crafty, and now there was no one standing in his way.

*** 

Melanie Peña found him scribbling down his plan in a beat-up composition notebook in the empty Amphitheater the next day after sword training. Her face was smudged with oil from whatever she’d been tinkering with that morning and her worn  overalls had a few suspicious new singe-marks. 

“Two little birdies told me you’re  goin ’ power-hungry,” She drawled in her thick Virginia twang.

She sunk down on the bench next to him and mussed up his thin blonde hair with her large, calloused hand. “ Y’know I have money on you  _ not  _ goin ’ full nutcase by the end of the week, right? I’ll cut you in if you can hold it together that long.”

He shook off her hand and elbowed her in the ribs for the joke. She pretended it actually hurt. They were about the same age but they couldn’t have been more different. Mel was tall and sturdy like the rest of the Cabin 9 kids, with warm brown eyes and a comforting low voice. Beside her, Luke was even more wiry, pale, and scrappy looking. Still, he considered her as close of a friend as he was possible of making. 

Mel had been head counselor of Cabin 9 almost since he and Annabeth arrived here a couple of years ago now. She was cool, smart, and always helped him think things through. Really, he was lucky to have her as a friend. 

“Talking to birds now? Are we sure your Dad’s Hephestus and not Pan, Mel?”

She laughed, deep and un- self-conscious , and peered over his shoulder at the page where he was scheming. He only noticed how cold the Autumn breeze had been when he felt the warmth coming from her. He resisted the want to lean into it.    


“That’s a good plan,” She said. “But we could skip the first couple steps.”

“I know.”

“So why don’t we?” She took out a sharpie and started doodling rough floorplans on her forearm. “It’s a real simple fix. ‘ Coulda done it two summers ago if Zander hadn’t been such a slimy little know-it-all.”

Luke shook his head. “He was a creep,” he admitted, remembering the head counselor of Cabin 11 that had come before him. The bonfire the night after he left for NYU had set a new record for celebrations around here (and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done his share of cheering.) “But he had a point. We shouldn’t have these problems in the first place, so why do we have to do all the work fixing them?”

She tsked. “If I waited all my life for things to be fair until I did anything, I’d die doin’ nothing.”

“True,” Luke agreed. “Very true. I respect the initiative.”

She showed him the schematics for a possible second story of Cabin 11 scribbled on her palm. “Then let’s take it. You’re in charge now; there’s no one stopping us from taking care of things around here anymore.”

He tapped the tip of his pen against the paper in thought. “We could,” he said. “But that’d only fix half of the problem.”

She shook her head and stood to leave. “Okay. Do what you need to do. I’ll get my cabin ready to start building by the end of the week.”

Luke grinned up at her. “Oh, it won’t take that long.”

She laughed, smiled softly at him, and smudged a bit of oil from the pad of her thumb down his left cheekbone for good luck. “See, now I  _ knew  _ you’d make a good head counselor.”

*** 

Chiron trotted back to his room in the Big House after a long day of trying to keep forty or so adolescent demigods from running one another through with various lethal weapons. His job was exhausting. He loved what he did but he wasn’t going to lie about the kind of strain raising entire generations of heroes one after the other could put on a centaur (even an immortal centaur.) Many nights he didn’t even bother properly preparing for bed, he just trudged in and hit the hay. Tonight was one of those nights. He didn’t even bother turning on the light when he entered.

He climbed up onto his bed and began to fold his legs under him as he went—

_ “Hey Chiron,” _ A voice said from less than an inch from his face. 

He screamed like a little filly and was back by the door to flick on the lights in under a second. His heart was still going a hundred miles an hour even after he realized the disembodied voice that had spoken belonged to one Mr. Luke Castellan—who was snuggled up under  _ his  _ covers.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Castellan, _w_ _ hat  _ are you doing here?” 

The blonde boy grinned a lopsided grin at him, a mischievous light glinting in his eyes. “Oh, it’s my night to sleep in this bed.”

“I am fairly certain it’s  _ my  _ turn to sleep in  _ my  _ bed, Mr. Castellan.”

Luke tapped his chin, playing along. “Hmm. Well,” he said. From under the covers he produced a sheet of crumpled notebook paper with a lengthy graph drawn on it. “According to the Hermes Cabin bunk rotation chart— y'know , the chart we use to determine which kids sleep on the  _ floor  _ every night—well, according to that chart I sleep here tonight.”

He folded the paper up and then his arms behind his head. He smiled softly and then with all the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven he told him: “You’re welcome to the floor, though, Chiron.”

The weary centaur nodded. Cabin 11 had been a little overpopulated for a few years now and he couldn't fault Luke for taking the initiative to expand their space. He was a determined, bright young man and Chiron knew he'd take to his new leadership role well. He would have preferred Luke bring it up at a meeting, however. “I understand, Mr. Castellan. We’ll begin renovations to cabin 11 in the morning to accommodate everyone.”

“And you’ll tell the other cabins that we’re setting up an unclaimed camper chart.”

“A what?”

Luke repeated himself: “A chart,” he said. “To determine which new campers stay with which cabins until they’re claimed.”

Chiron looked disapproving but Luke continued anyway.

“Do you know how many campers are in Cabin 11, sir?” He asked.

Of course he did, that was precisely his job. All he did was watch after these children all day, every day, ensuring they grew up right. Ensuring they grew up to make good choices, grew up to be _heroes_. “Twenty. Fifteen unclaimed, five claimed.”

“And you’re aware this is the Winter session. When the Summer session is in we gain another ten; eight are Hermes kids and two are unclaimed,” he said. “We gain another ten  _ at least.” _

“Yes. I am aware.”

“And you’re aware that there are only twelve single-person bunks in Hermes cabin?”

Chiron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes. That's the standard for every cabin.” He didn't need any of this explained to him. 

“In the Summer session, we don’t even have enough bunks for the _claimed_ Hermes kids let alone everyone else we take in.” Luke's face wasn't smug now, he was only hurt. He was hiding it well behind a neutral expression, but Chiron could tell.  


A feeling of shame washed over him as he realized what Luke was getting at. “I see.”

“I’m sure you do. So I’m sure you have no objections.”

Chiron swallowed his pride. “None.”

“Cool,” Luke said, shutting his eyes and letting his shoulders relax and his jaw unclench for the first time since he snuck into Chiron’s room during the bonfire. “G’night.”

He thought better of arguing with the boy any further. “And the other kids in Cabin 11 who normally sleep on the floor, I expect they’re...”

**_“CHIRON!”_ **

Luke grinned but didn’t open his eyes. “Looks like Mr. D just found out he’s rooming with the Stolls.”

Chiron groaned and dragged himself wearily from the hall. It was going to be a long night.

*** 

His morning started bright and early as he rose with the sun, but Luke found himself more well-rested than he’d felt in weeks. Nothing helped him sleep better than proving a point. And, well, a bed.

Mel answered the door of Cabin 9 already dressed, her thick black curls held back by her favorite new-project bandana. “You do work fast, Castellan,” she said with a grin.

He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

She knocked their shoulders together as she passed him on the way out of Cabin 9.

“Lumbers already loaded onto a wagon, we just  gotta get a  pegasus to help us pull it over your way.”

The leaves crunched beneath their feet on the way to the stable and Luke let himself imagine a soft, cozy Autumn for his siblings. Comfortable. Someplace they wanted to go back to at the end of the day, not somewhere they dreaded. He let himself hope for someplace they could actually call home. 

“Thank you, Mel,” he told her. “I appreciate this more than you can know.”

She pulled her head counselor’s set of keys from the pocket of her overalls to unlock the stables and paused. She never needed to say a lot, her eyes always gave her away. When she looked at him they were warm and sincere. 

“I’d help you with anything, Luke.” She unlocked the stables and slipped the keys back into her pocket. “I trust you.”

Luke smiled softly to himself. If she trusted him, well, he’d do his best to never lead her astray.   



End file.
